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Back in my university days, there was a lot of oil money in Texas, so several of my friends got jobs teaching at Texas A & M. Life is pretty dull in College Station, so one couple, on a visit back to Berkeley, showed photos from their cake decorating class. A favorite was an armadillo cake, depicting them as they are usually seen there, split open with cherry filling pouring out.

We are a bit more urban here in Oakland, but before I moved here, I would see deer in the back yard in El Cerrito. Now we are getting more and more reports of mountain lions in the cities.

Turkeys have been moving in more and more, too. A couple of times they have flown into the Mother of the Year ceremony in the Morcom Rose Garden near our home, right into the crowd. I guess they are just reinforcing their claim to the territory.

So when I found a reasonably intact road kill I took a photo. It became one of my hobbies. I now also have photos of myself holding a roadkill badger, fox, squirrel, shrew, snake, beaver, hedgehog, etc.

Oh, Tim, that is way too weird but also extremely funny. It's true, the Mardar is elusive. You never see the Mardar, you just see the damage he causes. The only Mardar photo we have is the one of the thing frozen in the rain barrel (the human head shot). And I still refuse to look at that photo. Had I known of your hobby, I would have sent my husband to come fetch you. The frozen Mardar would have made a nice addition to your photo collection. You might consider publishing a nice coffee table book: Musician with Road Kill.

Have you read any of David Sedaris's books? He is one of my literary heroes. In many ways he gave me the courage and confidence to write Piano Girl. Anyway, he wrote a recent essay on visiting a French taxidermist that is a riot. I can see from the responses here (and also in my personal email account and comment section on my blog) that Varmint on the Roof provoked a bit of excitement. Everyone, it seems, has pests.

BDB, I can't even say anything about that armadillo wedding cake. I can only hope someone comes up with something like that at one of the weddings I play, that way I can write about it. Maybe I should suggest something like this to the pastry chef at the castle.

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Robin Meloy Goldsbywww.goldsby.deAuthor of PIANO GIRL: A MemoirRHYTHM: A Novel RMG is a Steinway Artist

So when I found a reasonably intact road kill I took a photo. It became one of my hobbies. I now also have photos of myself holding a roadkill badger, fox, squirrel, shrew, snake, beaver, hedgehog, etc.

[Monica starts to get a bit concerned about TimR's hobbies ]

Nah, I'm a normal boring engineer.

However, we recently had a chili cookoff at work, and nobody ate mine.

Enough of this talk about stout brides! As many of you know, I have a lot to say about the horrors of stuffing yourself into a gown of any kind. I do it on a regular basis.

For instance, the VD dinner at the castle this year. I wore my Very Red Gown, which I pull out of ye olde closet once every twelve months, so we can all celebrate love on February 14th. Well, everyone else might celebrating love, but I am alone and at the piano, playing American love songs that no one recognizes and cringing every time the boning in the dress's corset pokes into my waist. Maybe someday I will record a VD cd and call it Corsets and Candlelight.

This is my own stupid fault, I know. I could very well wear one of my silky black pajama outfits, throw on a red scarf and be done with it, but no, I feel this need to go all out for this occasion. One of these days I am going to have the Great Piano Girl Evening Gown Give-Away and donate all my dresses to the 25 year old pianists who should be wearing them!

Speaking of the VD dinner, we had an interesting, uh, conflict in the restaurant that night. There were about 20 couples, all gussied up and gazing at each other over candlelight and tables strewn with red rose petals. And then, in the corner, was a family of Dutch tourists, with six (!) kids, between the ages of one and nine. All of them were wearing paid flannel shirts. It was like having the Dutch Waltons next to the piano. They were very cute, actually, but at one point they became impatient with the three hour dinner. Then they started acting like kids and doing that "chase" thing that kids do.

Part of me admired the mother for insisting on her VD dinner NO MATTER WHAT, but I think those kids might have been happier with a room service hamburger, a Mary Poppins DVD, and a babysitter. I think the other guests certainly would have been happier. I know I would have been happier without little Hans Walton running past the piano and banging on the bass notes. I often play with closed eyes and he scared the wits out of me.

Plus, you know, the dress was killing me.

My concert and reading at Steinway Haus in Düsseldorf is this week. If you live around here, I'd love to see you there. It's free. And I will wear something comfortable, I promise.

Speaking of the VD dinner, we had an interesting, uh, conflict in the restaurant that night. There were about 20 couples, all gussied up and gazing at each other over candlelight and tables strewn with red rose petals. And then, in the corner, was a family of Dutch tourists, with six (!) kids, between the ages of one and nine. All of them were wearing paid flannel shirts. It was like having the Dutch Waltons next to the piano. They were very cute, actually, but at one point they became impatient with the three hour dinner. Then they started acting like kids and doing that "chase" thing that kids do.

Oh. My. I am a mother who has taken her kids to restaurants on many occasions, and on some occasions my kids (especially the rambunctious boy) have been, well, rambunctious. (Though I must say the not-so-rambunctious girl had her moments, too, the most memorable being the time I unwisely gave the thirsty baby a drink of my sparkling water and bubbles got up her nose... I didn't realize little tykes could reach such heights on a decibel meter. )

However, I took my kids to family restaurants that featured kiddie meals, paper napkins, and many other families with squirming, rambunctious kids and where the noise of my kids made no appreciable difference. I would never have dreamed of taking them to a highly expensive, super fancy restaurant in a CASTLE, on VALENTINE'S DAY, no less!

I'm guessing your manager was in a tough spot. On the one hand, you don't want to offend a paying guest, even if they are paying guests in plaid shirts. On the other hand, he had 20 other paying parties who had presumably planned for this romantic night out for some time and deserved to have their special night unblemished by rampaging children.

The biggest share of the blame falls with the parents, one of whom should've escorted the little tykes upstairs the second they became obnoxious. But I guess I feel the manager should've stepped into the breach and asked the parents to intervene once it became obvious they weren't going to do the Right Thing on their own.

I hear you, Monica! And you are right—the manager was in a tough spot. We only have two restaurants at the hotel—one is the Michelin star restaurant where a meal costs about as much as a house, and the other is the Brasserie, where I was playing. The Dutch Waltons were staying at the hotel, so unless they wanted to eat in their rooms or in the bar, where else could they go?

That said, I think I was way more bothered than the guests. There seems to be more tolerance here for small children than there is in the USA, and, generally, I approve of that. But it was an odd situation on VD, that's for sure.

Let's hope they don't show up tomorrow night at my Steinway concert. Although if they do, I can probably work them into the show. All those plaid shirts would make for a nifty chorus line.

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Robin Meloy Goldsbywww.goldsby.deAuthor of PIANO GIRL: A MemoirRHYTHM: A Novel RMG is a Steinway Artist

As you might imagine, I have a Bratwurst story, but I can't post it here for fear of causing an international incident.

I played my concert at the lovely Düsseldorf Steinway Haus last night and one of the PW members came to me afterwards and introduced herself. What a pleasure to meet someone from PW! The charity that benefitted from this concert was a group that provides concert tickets for school kids in this area. Love that!

My daughter's choir concert was on Wednesday night. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, more glorious than the sound of 45 teenagers singing together. 500 people showed up to cheer them on, many of them kids supporting their friends. Warmed my heart, it did.

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Robin Meloy Goldsbywww.goldsby.deAuthor of PIANO GIRL: A MemoirRHYTHM: A Novel RMG is a Steinway Artist

There is nothing, and I mean nothing, more glorious than the sound of 45 teenagers singing together. 500 people showed up to cheer them on, many of them kids supporting their friends. Warmed my heart, it did.

I love the sound of young voices.

I sing with a mature choir, and there is some good musicianship there. But none of us can match the purity and clarity of tone of young singers. It's trumpet vs tuba. Or maybe oboe vs flute.

Years ago my wife and I went to an international glass trade show at the Cincinnati Convention Center. I went to the concession stand for a bit of lunch. Cincinnati cuisine is chiefly known for its, um, unusual 5-Way Chili (spiced with cloves and served over spaghetti) but American versions of bratwurst and mettwurst, known as brats and metts, are also popular.

As I walked up to the window, the man ahead of me looked at the little thing in a bun he'd just been handed. In a plaintive, German-accented voice he said "But, ... but I ordered a braht-voorst!" Poor fellow should have tried the 5-way chili.

Thanks for the story, Andy--- very innocent, as tales featuring bratwurst go. I hated to press Robin for her story. I'll admit I was curious, but when she says it would set off an Incident... well, I think she probably declines for some very good reason. She holds very little back, when you get right down to it.

Naturally, my mind went immediately to the EU horsemeat scandal, which has led to so many urpped-up lunches in the capitols of Europe within the last few weeks. To be fair to bratwurst, it hasn't been mentioned so far--- though any sausage product is bound to be suspect--- but lasagna and burgers have both been accused, by name, on cable news. A Romanian abattoir, which supplied repackagers for the mass market, has tarnished the reputation of slaughterhouses all through the Eastern Bloc.

Then there was the fish scandal. This was an America-only affair, which has blackened the name of restaurants, taco trucks, and grocery stores (mostly the former), whose fish were discovered to be not what they said they were, and not what they should have been. Drat those busybody tale-carrying USDA food inspectors, and drat cable news double!

It is a wicked world. If even Robin dare not mention the bratwurst affair, it must be very hot stuff indeed. I am not sure if five-way chili is the same thing as Texas-five-alarm chili, but it could be even hotter than that. It could EVEN be hotter than Mrs. Smith's Apple Pies--- but no, I can't tell that story until the new Pope has been invested (it was a tricky case, which involved both sins of omission and sins of commission, and the tale has to be cleared from the top or not at all).

I am not sure if five-way chili is the same thing as Texas-five-alarm chili....

Cincinnati five-way chili is quite possibly the opposite of Texas five-alarm chili. It's not hot at all. Legend has it the stuff was invented by a Greek immigrant with a diner. A customer walked in and asked for chili and, not wanting to lose a sale, the Greek guy threw something together.

The five ways of Cincinnati chili are the meat in a clove-and-cinnamon-spiced tomato sauce, spaghetti, chopped white onions, shredded cheddar cheese, and kidney beans. You can order one-, two-, three- or four-way if you prefer, leaving out more or fewer ingredients.

No. I will not go there. Although I am tempted to write a three-way Bratwurst story, I shall err on the side of decency and control myself, at least for the time being. I shall save my Bratwurst story in the event that I decide to write a soft porn book. Maybe I will call it Fifty Shades of Brides.

I am a vegetarian (and a hopeful, but backsliding vegan) so I am not particularly alarmed by the horse meat scandal. To me, a cow, a horse, a pig, a chimp, it's all animal meat. The alarming thing is that the labeling is false and people are not getting what they think they're getting. That's bad. And I'm sure the faulty labeling crosses over to plant foods, too. Could there be sawdust in that chamomile tea? Glue in the peanut butter? Bratwurst in the veggie-wurst? Who knows? You can't trust anything these days.

Except music, you can usually trust that—nourishment of a different kind.

I met a bride this weekend, who booked me for her wedding. She was wearing black leather thigh-high boots and a Prada mini skirt. Can't wait to see what she comes up with on her wedding day. She's a June bride, so I imagine it will be over the top.

AndyJ, nice to meet you! Keep me away from that chili. Yikes.

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Robin Meloy Goldsbywww.goldsby.deAuthor of PIANO GIRL: A MemoirRHYTHM: A Novel RMG is a Steinway Artist

This week marks the tenth anniversary of Mister Rogers' death. This week's essay is my little shrine to his memory. Fred Rogers was a pianist before he was a television star. He loved music and he loved those of us who play the piano.

Thanks, Monica! My dad played on Mister Rogers Neighborhood for 35 years, with that exact group. You can imagine how heartbroken he was when pianist Johnny Costa died. Costa was a piano hero, if you ask me.

I wish I had a photo credit for that shot, but I don't. It was one of hundreds of photos taken every year in the studio, but I like it because the guys look so relaxed. It was snapped sometime in the very early nineties.

Absolutely no wedding news, I am sad to report. Some bookings are trickling in and now that spring is in the air I expect things to pick up a bit. The Dubai bride is next week.

In an attempt to drum up some business I have included two wedding-appropriate tunes on my new CD (coming in May). I have a nice arrangement of "What a Wonderful World" on there (brides always ask for this), and, because my starry eyed daughter tends to know exactly what songs will be popular with the young crowd, I've included the song "A Thousand Years," which is on the Twilight soundtrack. I've yet to have a bride request this, but Julia assures me it will be the wedding song of the summer. You heard it here first. Think of it as the Vampire-Bride song.

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Robin Meloy Goldsbywww.goldsby.deAuthor of PIANO GIRL: A MemoirRHYTHM: A Novel RMG is a Steinway Artist